


A Little Smudged

by Fallynleaf



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, First Kiss, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallynleaf/pseuds/Fallynleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Angie has an encounter with a mugger, Peggy saves the damsel in distress, and Angie proves that you don't need makeup to woo a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Smudged

**Author's Note:**

> Written rather last-minute for Femslash February! I apologize if the quality of the writing reflects my procrastination.

It was a chilly Friday night, and the rain drizzled down lazily, marring Angie's already smudged makeup. She'd fix it up at home‒or just take it off, maybe. After all, she had no one to impress except Peggy, and Peggy wouldn't respect her less for it, anyways.

Also, Angie's feet were hurting because she'd been standing all day in the same pair of shoes, so she'd slowed her walking pace a bit and now lagged a couple paces behind Peggy. It was just the sort of night for smudged makeup and aching feet. She'd been trying to come up with something else to think about, but so far, no luck.

The wet street glistened with yellow lamplight and slick shadows. It was about as dark as the streets of New York ever got. But Angie wasn't alone, and she wasn't scared.

That's about when someone roughly yanked at Angie's purse.

She screamed and gripped it tighter.

A man stood behind her, and Angie didn't have time to catch his face before his hand slammed into her and she stumbled and released her grasp on her purse.

The man took off at a run. Angie tried to shout something after him, but she was breathing too hard and couldn't get the words out.

Then Peggy was there, reaching out and steadying her. "Which way did he go?" Peggy asked.

Angie pointed and said, "D-down that alleyway."

Peggy broke into a run, and Angie felt a sudden surge of fear for her. "Peggy, be careful!" Angie said. "It's okay if‒"

"Don't worry. This alley's a dead end."

Then Peggy was just a blur of movement in the shadow.

Something made a crunching sound, and Angie's heart lurched, and then she heard the sounds of a struggle. "Peggy?" Angie called. "Peggy!" She started down the alley after them‒

Only to nearly run right into Peggy, who stood there holding Angie's purse.

The mugger fared much worse. He was leaned up against the building, his head tipped forward, an occasional dazed groan coming from his general vicinity. An old wood board lay on the ground nearby.

"Angie‒" Peggy turned.

Angie found herself wobbling, her legs a little unsteady after all of the excitement, and then Peggy's arms were around her, steadying her, and she reached up and clutched Peggy tightly for a moment, her eyes squeezed shut, the wet air feeling cold and heavy on her skin.

"Just a couple of blocks, and we'll be home, Angie," Peggy said.

"Thanks, English."

They walked slower the rest of the way there. Peggy wrapped her arm around Angie, and she kept it there the whole walk back.

After they got home, Peggy poured Angie a drink, and they sat together on one of the couches, and Angie waited for her hand to stop shaking.

"You know," Peggy started to say, her voice quiet. "The reason I was reluctant to live with you at first was because I was worried that somehow, me being around you would endanger your life."

"Oh, Peg, you don't have to worry about me," Angie said. "I mean, uh, tonight notwithstanding‒"

"My last roommate was killed because of her association with me," Peggy said calmly. "And before her, the only man I ever loved died right after talking to me on the radio." Her voice wavered a little at that.

"I'm so sorry, Peggy. I didn't know," Angie whispered.

"I never told you, so that's my fault," Peggy said. "But I want you to know about it now. I'm tired of secrets, Angie."

Angie looked into her glass, dragging her finger through the condensation. There was nothing really she could say to that besides reassure Peggy that she would always be willing to listen. But Peggy already knew that.

"Well, I don't know if it helps any," Angie said, "But tonight? You saved me, English!" She smiled. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been there. I would've ended up without a way to pay next month's rent, that's for sure!"

"Ah, but there's no rent here, remember?" Peggy said.

"But if I hadn't met you, I wouldn't be living here," Angie pointed out. She looked up from her glass and caught Peggy's eyes. And just like that, both of them were laughing. Their laughter was a little crazed and maybe almost hysteric, but then it became easier and more genuine.

Afterwards, Angie reached for Peggy and pulled her into an embrace‒a real one, this time; not just something to keep Angie upright‒and Peggy barely tensed before she relaxed into it and reached up to return the hug. Peggy wasn't really the huggy type, and Angie got that, but she thought Peggy might appreciate the feeling of someone holding her, sometimes. Lord knows how many times Peggy had saved other people's lives. And she did it in secret while everyone looked for reasons to discredit her.

Somehow, Angie's head ended up on Peggy's shoulder. Peggy's arm was still draped over Angie, her fingers absently carding through Angie's hair.

"Why do we even need men?" Angie mumbled. "I mean, you can fight better than any man I've ever met."

Peggy smiled. "Well, it's nice to have a reason to keep going, someone to come home to. Someone to call when your plane is plummeting and you want your last thought to be a good one." She took a breath. "Besides, it's nice having someone to kiss."

"Mmm," Angie said. She felt comfortable and warm and a little sleepy. "Do you really need a man for that, though?"

Peggy was silent. Angie lifted her head off of Peggy's shoulder to regard her. "Well... I guess not... necessarily," Peggy said slowly.

"English, if you really want someone to kiss..." Angie sat up in her seat. "...All you had to do is ask."

"I've never been very good at that," Peggy whispered.

"You're a smart spy woman," Angie said. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." Then she leaned over and pressed her lips against Peggy's.

Kissing a woman was different. Peggy's lips were softer, for one thing. And very red. Angie wondered if some of Peggy's lipstick would get on her own lips. But the rest of it‒the flutter of warmth in Angie's stomach, the pounding of her heart‒was just the same as every other kiss she'd shared.

Eventually, they pulled apart. "You're a good kisser," Angie commented. "The first man I ever kissed‒he was so sloppy at it. But you're, uh..." She fumbled for words.

"Happy," Peggy breathed. "I'm _happy_."

"Really?" Angie asked.

Peggy nodded. "It's been a long time since I've been able to say that," she said.

"Then I'm glad!" Angie smiled. "You deserve to be happy, Peg."

The clock chimed. Great, rich tones of sound echoed in the room. Angie was so distracted by the contours of Peggy's face, softly lit by the stately lamp beside the couch, that she forgot to count the hour.

"Angie..." Peggy said, her voice soft. "Could I have another kiss?"

Angie was already leaning in before Peggy finished her sentence. This kiss was deeper than the last, and if Angie's makeup had been smudged before, it was definitely a mess now.

"Can I tell you another secret?" Peggy asked after they separated.

"Of course!"

"Of the three lives I was living," Peggy said, "The one I liked best was the one where you asked me about my day."

"That's not much of a secret," Angie said. "But I've got one‒" She shifted so that she could better whisper it into Peggy's ear. "‒I accidentally stole one of Mrs. Fry's spoons."

Peggy's eyebrows went up. "Really?" she said.

"I found it in one of my bags while I was unpacking my things. I forgot I'd borrowed one to eat the cup of soup I took‒"

"Soup," Peggy repeated, disbelieving.

"Gloria let me use her gravy compartment in her pocketbook," Angie explained. "Anyways, I guess I forgot to return the spoon, because it ended up packed with my underclothes somehow. So if you notice that one of Stark's spoons looks different than the others, don't say a word."

"Believe me, I've learned not to ask too many questions about this place. It's really better not to know," Peggy said. "But I'll keep your criminal history a secret, Angie."

"Good. Because as much as I would love to stay up and, um, _talk_ some more, it's late and I really should be getting to bed," Angie said. She reluctantly pulled away from Peggy and stood up.

"We can certainly _talk_ more tomorrow," Peggy said. She got up, and there were a couple seconds where both of them faced each other, but didn't quite know what to say or do, but then Peggy leaned down and gave Angie a quick kiss. "Goodnight, Angie," she said.

"'Night, English!" Angie said. She smiled, then turned, and immediately made some sort of undignified sound.

"What is it?" Peggy asked, instantly alert.

"We just had that whole conversation while I looked like _that_?" Angie pointed at the large ornate mirror in the corner of the room. Her makeup had more than smudged‒the rain had made it start to _run_ , and her lips were uneven and messy.

Peggy looked at her. "Well, there wasn't exactly time to‒"

"Don't look!" Angie said, throwing up her hand. "I look downright _terrifying_!" She peered closer at her reflection. "Maybe I should audition for one of those monster movies? Or see if I can find something with a woman murderer?"

"You look fine, Angie," Peggy said.

"Oh, quit it. You're ruining my fun."

Peggy quirked an eyebrow. "Then I'll have to make it up to you."

"Tomorrow. Make it up to me... tomorrow," Angie said. "I don't know how you did that whole double-agent thing; Just one run-in with a mugger, and I'm exhausted."

"Goodnight, Angie," Peggy said again, amused.

"I'd kiss you again, but you'd have to close your eyes first," Angie said.

"Alright." Peggy closed them. Her eyelids fluttered when Angie pressed a kiss against her lips, but they stayed shut.

Later, as Angie lay in bed and listened to the rain drumming hard against the roof and streaming down the window, she drifted to sleep thinking about how she was going to kiss Peggy in the morning.


End file.
